coffee shop
by lauren lachrymose
Summary: I think that possibly, maybe, I've fallen for you. kaixel, namiku, & yuffdem.


**note;** You know what I love more than writing AU Kingdom Hearts fanfiction?  
Writing crackships into AU Kingdom Hearts fanfiction. xD Anyway, this was  
greatly inspired by Landon Pigg's song _Coffee Shop_. (Go figure).

**C O F F E E S H O P  
**_ithinkthatpossibly,maybei'vefallenforyou._

When Kairi first met Axel, she thought he was an idiot.

An arrogant, condescending, muffin-stealing _idiot_. Because I mean, really, would the guy have sauntered into the tiny coffee shop, sat down in the chair beside her, and grabbed her breakfast right out of her own hand (while _smirking_, no less!) if he **wasn't **an idiot?

No.

Which is exactly why Kairi (who only wanted to eat her blueberry muffin in peace) slowly looked up from her magazine and gave him a glare that would certainly emasculate any _normal_, non-moronic young man. But Axel, being Axel, only continued to smirk in an absolutely infuriating way, his disgustingly perfect teeth proceeding to take a bite out of _her_ dollar-twenty-five meal.

_Why_ was this guy bothering her, again?

"Look, buddy…" she began, rolling up the latest issue of _Teen Vogue_ into a makeshift bat, "I don't know who or what you _think_ you are, but I really don't care. All _I_ know is that you just stole my muffin, and I expect you to walk up to the counter and buy me a spankin' new one. And it'd better not be banana nut."

The only noise in the entire room was the idle chatter of the bored baristas and the fading remnants of an old Frank Sinatra tune. No frightened heartbeat, no quivering voice. Not even the boy's damn feet going to buy her stupid food.

Because this _idiot_ with the spiked red hair and teardrop tattoos **was not moving**.

He was leaning backwards in a plastic chair.

Smirking.

And staring directly at Kairi with a completely amused (and so_ not _threatened) expression on his face, acting like he owned the entire freaking world.

So Kairi only had seven words to say to him.

"Die, or get your ass up there."

He did neither.

Instead, he sat the chair back down on all fours and leaned across the table, his right hand extended in some sort of offering. The half-demolished blueberry muffin lay there, mocking her in the dim fluorescent light._ Haha, Kairi. You can't have me all to yourself now. I am covered with some strange man's cooties. If you eat me, you will get infected with idiocy and die a horrible, horrible death. NOW YOU SHALL FOREVER BE DENIED MY DELICIOUS BLUEBERRY TASTE._

Suddenly, Kairi didn't want a muffin anymore.

Noticing that she wasn't accepting his gesture of 'kindness', Axel shrugged, took another bite, and stood. With a slow wink, he turned on his heel and walked right back out of the shop, the door closing with the soft tinkle of a bell.

With that, Kairi decided she hated him (_maybe_).

And he was still an idiot.

**.&.**

When Riku first met Naminé, he thought she was… Well, _strange_, to say the least.

What, with the paint in her hair and her clothes and her nails. She was just sitting there, knees pulls up to her chest, shoes discarded in a heap on the wood floor, a sketchbook resting on her lap. Every once in a while, she would catch his gaze from across the room and blush, pretending to draw… something or other.

As he had told his friend Sora (one of the employees at the decidedly un-corporate coffee joint), that girl was _weird_.

But she was there every single day, from three to six on weekdays and noon to four on weekends.

And she never bought a single cup of coffee.

"Not even a measly _frappuccino_!" Sora would complain, running a hand through his mess of brown hair. "Why don't we kick her out, again…?"

This is when Riku would sigh and shrug his shoulders, "She's not bothering anyone. She probably just needs a quiet place to sketch."

What he didn't know, was what she was sketching.

So one particularly dull afternoon, the young man casually tossed his cup in the trashcan and silently strolled up behind her. He couldn't tell quite what it was yet, but what held his attention was how incredibly _immersed_she was in it. The charcoal never left the paper (Riku absently made a note that she was left handed), and neither did her eyes. It was mesmerizing, really. Which is why when Naminé paused for a moment to look at her watch, he was just as startled as she was when she gave a little 'yelp' and jumped out of her seat.

A rainbow of colored pencils littered the floor, causing a few customers to look up from their drinks and Sora to shout, "Hey, you're going to pick those up, right?"

But eyes the color of the sky were drowning in eyes the color of the ocean, and in that one, beautiful second, Naminé had found her muse.

Then the chiming of a bell and the moderately loud bickering of two fiery red-heads pulled their gazes apart, and Riku silently gathered the dropped utensils and held them out for her to take. But Naminé only smiled and shook her head, dashing out of the room and leaving her materials behind.

Later, Sora would tease Riku that he had been just a _little _pink in the face, but of course, there was always an excuse.

- -

"I really don't know what she wants me to do. I mean, one minute, she's calling me and flirting and stuff, and the next, she's shouting at me, telling me I _neglect her needs_. What the heck does _that_ mean?"

Riku only laughed, rolling his eyes at his best friend's girl troubles. Advice was never something he gave, which Sora understood completely. Still, he couldn't resist throwing a damp washcloth at the silver-haired boy's pretty face.

As the two teenage boys were goofing off, the door opened, signaling a customer. They both looked up, grins still etched on their faces.

It was Naminé.

And in her hands, was a rather large portfolio, decorated with a blue ribbon at the top left corner.

Her expression said it all.

'_I have something to show you._'

So Sora nodded and Riku moved from behind the counter, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Is it a picture?"

She smiled.

He gestured to the ribbon with his head, a small smile making its way onto his lips. "Looks like it won a prize. I bet it's good, huh?" When she didn't respond in any way, only continued to look up at him with those doe eyes of hers, Riku cleared his throat and pulled his hands out of his pockets. "So, are you going to show it to me?"

Then, gently, Naminé opened the slit at the top and revealed a portrait.

Of _him_.

His head was thrown back, hair blowing in the wind, as he stood on the edge of a cliff with the ocean waves crashing into the mass of rock below him.

And he looked… _free_. Happy.

It was in this moment that Riku decided that Naminé wasn't so strange after all, with her eyes filled with skylines and sunsets and the brushes of clouds.

She was just Naminé.

And Riku couldn't have asked for anything more.

**.&.**

When Yuffie first met Demyx, she thought he was a dork.

A complete, scarf-wearing, air guitar playing, _dork_. Because I mean, really, would he have strolled into the tiny coffee shop, ordered a mocha frappuccino (with extra whipped cream, no less!), and started _dancing_ to the Beatles song that was currently playing on the overhead speakers if he **wasn't** a dork?

No.

Which is exactly why Yuffie (who was only slightly intrigued by this crazy nerd, she wasn't going to lie) looked up from her novel and quirked an eyebrow in a quizzical, yet '_I'm totally mocking you right now_' sort of way. But Demyx, being Demyx, only grinned and extended his arm, as if asking if she wanted to join him.

But Yuffie was a ninja, and ninjas kicked ass. They did not dance with strange men in public places.

So Yuffie gave an expert roll of her brown eyes and turned back to her book, pretending to be annoyed by this ridiculously secure young man.

This became hard to do as his drink arrived and he sat down in the wooden chair right across from her, a sweet grin starting to widen as their eyes met over the edge of the paper cover.

"What do you want?" she asked, putting as much venom into her words as she possibly could (hanging around Leon had helped her perfect this technique), one of her hands reaching out to grasp the steaming cup of coffee (black, because _duh_, she was totally hardcore).

Demyx shrugged slightly, and took a sip of his extremely girly (in Yuffie's opinion, anyway) drink. "Nothing. What are you reading? And don't say 'a book' or point to the title," he added, giving her a pointed look, "Just tell me what it's about."

But Yuffie did _not_ want to tell this man what her book was about. Because he could either see right through her, or he was simply unperturbed by her obvious disdain for him.

She was betting it was both.

This made her entirely uncomfortable, and she wanted nothing more than for this dweebish blonde boy to _go away and never come back again_.

Which, of course, he failed to do.

"It's, um, about a girl. A girl who can see things that other people can't. Not ghosts or faeries or that supernatural crap, but like, _different_ things. Things about people that no one else bothers to notice… And, um…" Confidence, Yuffie! NINJA. "It's a fantastic novel. I've read it about four times now."

Demyx's smile grew even _wider_, if that was possible. "So you mean spiritual or personal things about people. Right?"

Holy freakin' _cow._ This guy was actually interested? He was more of a dork than Yuffie originally thought.

Of course, what that made _her_, she didn't want to dwell on.

"Exactly. Most people wouldn't take me for someone who reads, but, we all have our little secrets." She laughed then, surprising herself, and absently took a sip of her coffee to try and cover it up.

It didn't work.

She only ended up nearly gagging on the stuff, but forced it down her very angry esophagus.

Demyx chuckled and began to sway in time to the music (another Beatles song; Riku must've gotten into the sound system again) and pulled off his scarf, draping it over his guitar case. "I totally get what you mean. Like, apparently, you drink black coffee and keep your hair short for_ image_, am I right?"

No.

**Nonononooooo**.

Well, he was right, but there was NO WAY IN HELL Yuffie was going to admit that.

Scowling, she stood abruptly from her seat, nearly knocking over her drink in the process. "And I guess you dance around and act like a five year old in a candy store for _image_ too, correct?"

He shook his head. "Nope. The opposite. The way I see it, it doesn't matter what other people think of you. It only matters if you like yourself. You know?"

Okay, now he was getting irritating.

"While you pretend to be Dr. Phil, I'm going to go. I have to get to kung fu class."

And with that, Yuffie grabbed her book and left Demyx to sit alone in the coffee shop, humming rather loudly while sipping on his frappuccino.

He was still a dork.

And if he ever spoke to her again, Yuffie would remind him that she was still a ninja, and could _totally_ kick his ass.


End file.
